


All the better to eat you with, my dear…

by Eos_x



Series: We're all mad here... [5]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Acting, Athosians, Birthday Party, Celebrations, Crack, Crossdressing, Developing Relationship, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied Slash, M/M, Male Slash, McShep - Freeform, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Putting on a play!, Red Riding Hood Elements, Todd/everyone?, Wraith, Wraith (Stargate), pantomime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23425780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_x/pseuds/Eos_x
Summary: The team is attending Torren’s fifth birthday celebration in New Athos and all Rodney wanted was to perform a pantomime that would be beloved by all and discussed in reverent tones for the rest of time.Is that too much to ask?Or, Rodney convinces Sheppard to act in a pantomime with him and everything looks like it's going to work out for costumed physicists and sexy colonels. That is until Torren insists that his favourite wraith gets to be in the play too, resulting in a glammed up Todd flirting his way through the ever-unravelling performance.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, implied McShep
Series: We're all mad here... [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632256
Comments: 17
Kudos: 13





	All the better to eat you with, my dear…

**Author's Note:**

> This idea burst into my brain and had to be written really fast and posted right away. I giggled my way through writing it - it's ridiculous and fun and I hope you like it! :)
> 
> The Benny Hill theme song mentioned near the end of the story can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK6TXMsvgQg  
> I highly suggest having a listen before reading that part… ;)
> 
> SGA characters, settings etc are the property of MGM. Forcing the characters to participate in a pantomime production is all my evil idea...

**_Act One: the idea_ **

“A pantomime? Seriously?” Sheppard sprawled in his chair, which clearly functioned more like a Lazy Boy recliner. He took a leisurely bite of his not-apple muffin as he surveyed the mess hall. 

Rodney was in full orchestra-conductor mode, limbs flailing emphatically as he outlined his idea for Torren’s birthday gift. “Yes! It’s brilliant! We’ll do it as a team! Think about it… we choose a play, pick our parts and rehearse. Let me rephrase; _I’ll_ choose a play, assign the parts and run the rehearsals. We can whip up some costumes--”

Sheppard snorted.

“--build a basic set, string up some lights… Fine. Look. I’ll get my minions to do it. It’s not like they’re achieving anything noteworthy anyway.” An uninitiated expedition member might think he was kidding, but for those who had been around for a little longer, they knew the labs would be all but shut down until Rodney had his pantomime. 

“Now,” he continued. “Due to my history with the dramatic arts-- hey, did I ever tell you about the time I won a Sears Drama Festival award as a kid?”

“Yes, Rodney. Right in the middle of us trying to get Atlantis back from the Replicators.”

“Huh. Okay, well, that _and_ the fact that Torren wouldn’t even exist without me--”

“Uh, I think Teyla and Kanaan might have had something--”

“-- I’d have to play the title character. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sheppard agreed, in absolute seriousness.

Rodney flashed his irresistible crooked smile. “And _obviously_ you would play my love interest.”

Sheppard promptly fell off his chair. 

“There’s a proper way to sit in a chair for a reason, Colonel,” Rodney tutted. “Look, this could be my chance to _really_ shine, Sheppard. I never got to be in plays at high school. You know; genius, went to college at 14, missed valuable teenage milestones.”

“Trust me, McKay. You didn’t miss much,” Sheppard explained while righting his chair.

“Come on, Colonel,” he whined, batting his eyelashes for good measure. “Do it for me?”

“You mean for _Torren_.”

“Hm? What? Oh yeah. Him too. Sure. Whatever.” Rodney beamed at Sheppard and swiped the rest of his muffin. 

***

**_Act Two: the preparation_ **

But it hadn’t all gone quite according to Rodney’s flawless plan. 

Teyla had said she loved his idea (“you know, Teyla, I always did like you best”) but explained she was too busy with the party preparations to actually be in it (“you’re dead to me”). 

Ronon had just stared at Rodney in silence (“what? What?! You’d make a great ogre!”) before getting up and walking away (“how about a bear? A beast? Ronon? Ronon!”).

So Rodney had to resort to widening the circle of talent. 

The scientist had been swamped with interest which resulted in an extensive audition process, much to Sheppard’s amusement. John contemplated trying to get out of being in it, but changed his mind after hearing Rodney detail all the plans he had for his character’s love interest, the Woodcutter. 

Rodney was not impressed when he got accused of being the “Simon of _Atlantian Idol”_ after he gave a particularly scathing review of one unlucky auditioner. 

Sheppard pointed out that it might be rather fitting. He did make Kavanagh cry, after all.

But as amusing as the auditions were, they left precious little time to work on the actual play. Rodney ended up commandeering the conference room to run a sweatshop of costume design (Miko), lighting and sound (Radek), and set construction (Lorne and several marines). 

Rodney insisted on conducting the one and only rehearsal in absolute secrecy after midnight in one of the abandoned labs. He had to work around the fact that one actor in particular was only available to join them the day before the celebrations.

“So, tell me again exactly why Todd has to be in the play?” John asked, watching their alien castmate.

Rodney was hunched over his laptop, revising the script for the hundredth time. “It was Torren’s one and only request. So sue me. What? You expected me to say no to the kid having the birthday?” 

“Yes, Rodney. I did. Todd doesn’t even know what a pantomime is, for crying out loud.” Sheppard couldn’t help hoping that there’d be alcohol at this thing. 

Rodney had pitched several options to an eager Torren, but after failing to convince him of the entertainment value of Shakespeare or Marlowe (“uncultured, poorly educated--” “He’s five, Rodney”), he had to resort to explaining the plot of several fairytales. 

In the end, Torren had gone with _Little Red Riding Hood_ and he wanted Todd to be the Big Bad Wolf. The boy had developed an attachment to the ancient Wraith since discovering that his telepathic abilities had surpassed that of his parents. 

To everyone’s surprise, Todd seemed to have a soft spot for the kid; bringing him trinkets and gadgets from his travels, indulging his endless mental queries of “but whyyyy?”, and providing him with on-demand shoulder rides. 

Rodney had asked him to be in the play the last time Todd was in Atlantis, expecting the wraith to turn him down flat. 

So, naturally, Todd had agreed to be in the play.

Of course, Todd had outright refused to wear a costume (particularly when presented with the grandmother’s nightie and cap for the wolf to wear in the final scene) or any stage makeup. Or the wig, for that matter.

While Rodney wasn’t willing to argue _those_ points with an ancient wraith warrior, he absolutely lost it when the Wraith questioned his character's motivation. Apparently, Todd felt it was a complete waste of time to conduct the charade of posing as the grandmother and should just get straight onto eating Red Riding Hood. He was also unconvinced that a mere woodcutter could overpower a wolf of his age and rank, and had some minor suggestions for his dialogue.

Rodney could barely sputter a coherent sentence. “What?? Are you—? That’s the whole—! You can’t—! Gah!! I can’t work under these conditions!” 

Todd had become rather alarmed at the red-purple shade of the scientist’s face and felt it best to drop the subject. “I will concede to you on this, Dr. McKay,” he rumbled. “But I _will_ provide my own attire.”

This piqued Sheppard’s curiosity. “You gotta seamstress on one of your hives there, Todd?”

“Actually, I make my own clothing.” At John’s eloquent snort of derision, Todd shot him a scathing look and then rolled his eyes. “All wraith know how to sew, Sheppard.”

Right. Because _Pegasus_. 

***

**_Act Three: the set-up_ **

Rodney surveyed the scene from the wings, stage-right. The marines had rigged up three frames to create their ‘stage’, which was situated on the grass area on one side of the main fire. They had made two 7-foot wooden flats to act as wings, and one huge frame that stood between and behind the flats. 

From the bar across the top hung a stunning backdrop. Lorne had done an excellent job painting an Athosian forest scene including, for a touch of whimsy, Cinderella’s castle perched atop a mountain in the distance. But to Rodney, it looked suspiciously like Atlantis.

Wedged into the wing beside him, Radek sat at a low desk, ready with the lighting and soundtrack cues. On the other side of the stage, Chuck hid in the stage-left wing, clad head to toe in black. His audition had certainly been the most… enthusiastic, and luckily his passion didn’t wane when given the role of “making sound effects”. To be fair, he’d done a convincing job at ‘wind’ and ‘morning bird calls’. 

Popping his head around behind the backdrop, he spied on his fellow cast members. Miko was scurrying about, helping the other four ‘actors’ with their costumes. 

“Hmph.” Somewhere along the line, ‘pantomime’ had somehow become ‘high-end fashion show’. 

Mr. Woolsey stood off to the side, looking over his meticulously highlighted script. He had taken his role as Compere very seriously, and looked particularly sharp in his dark grey three-piece suit. Rodney didn’t begrudge him his decision to trade the ‘cartoonish’ ringmaster’s outfit for an expensive suit that fit him like a glove, although he wasn’t as forgiving when he noticed Woolsey’s concentration seemed to keep straying over to...

...Jennifer Keller, who stood at the makeup table, leaning forward suggestively to apply her vibrant red lipstick. She had completely reinvented the look of the cliched Grandmother. Gone was the wiry grey wig and oversized, stiff cotton nightie that Rodney had picked out. Instead, she was wearing that flowing white satin nightgown he had always liked (if that thigh split was any higher…), high heeled fluffy ‘slippers’ and a sheer, feather-lined robe. Oh dear. Jinto and his friends were going to _love_ this. Well, her and...

...Sheppard, who was leaning bonelessly against the backdrop framing, looking divine as the Woodcutter; complete with plaid shirt (why were so many buttons undone?!), faded jeans and a designer five o’clock shadow. Every few minutes he’d straighten up and take a few practice swings with his stage axe, but looked more like he was out golfing. Rodney’s throat had gone mysteriously dry, so he reached for his honey tea, an absolute _must_ for the serious thespian, ignoring the curious looks being thrown at...

...Todd. 

The wraith had roped off a section of the backstage area for himself and managed to find a heavy wooden chair from somewhere. He’d draped his makeshift throne with animal skins and sat like a king, sipping on some of Rodney’s honey tea. Where he had found a straw was anyone’s guess.

Todd was wearing his usual black pants and boots, but had actually removed his battlecoat. His interpretation of ‘wolf’ apparently consisted of a combination of leather, fur, metal and exposed skin. He wore a black leather-like vest trimmed with an outrageously fluffy black and grey fur collar. His heavy leather-ish studded fingerless gloves, paired with his unruly white hair, definitely made him look wilder than usual.

Shiny new metal fingerguards encased each finger in steel and topped them with extra long claws. It should have been way too ‘Freddy Krueger’ but the way he was running his talons through the fur draped over the arm of his chair… well, it still wasn’t appropriate for children. His green arms were bare, unless you counted the many intricate patterns tattooed on his skin, complementing his impressively sculpted muscles. The wraith wasn’t even bothering to hide the provocative looks he was giving, oh, _everyone_ . And… wait, was that… _black eyeliner?!_

So. On this runway (oh, right _stage_ ) they had ‘cultured aristocrat’, ‘seductive socialite’, ‘spiky-haired lumber _chic’_ , ‘glam rock goth vamp’ and… Rodney. 

Rodney was, of course, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. He’d had to fight dirty to keep the role from Keller. Oh, yeah, you had better believe he brought up her _affair_ . The one that had ended their entire _relationship_. He’d gotten good mileage out of that since their breakup, but he suspected her risqué excuse for an outfit was payback.

Embracing the art of the pantomime, Rodney had gotten Miko to make him a proper costume; 

  * red satin hooded cloak and wig of golden ringlets (ugh, it was already too hot), 
  * black boots and fishnet stockings (his hairy legs were emphasized for full comic effect) and, 
  * a short dress and corset (yep, the lacing was definitely too tight. His fake boobs were practically up to his chin).



The look was completed with exaggerated makeup; blue eyeshadow, false lashes, red cheeks and lips. He had started out feeling confident in his perfect pantomime get up, but was fast becoming the geek who didn’t get the memo that the cool kid’s ‘kegger’ was no longer a costume party. 

With a building sense of doom, Rodney muttered to himself that “the show must go on”. He was nothing if not professional.

Out front, the fire was crackling merrily in the centre of the Name Day celebrations. Torren, five years old and wriggling with anticipation, was perched proudly on his special stool, flanked by his proud parents. Teyla scanned the happy crowd until her eyes met Rodney’s and gave him a nod of approval. He disappeared backstage and gathered the cast and crew together.

“Alright, team, it’s our turn, finally. I don’t think I can sit through any more chanting and singing and whatnot. Now, _don’t_ mess this up. I laboured too long and too hard trying to get you lot into shape, but thespians you most certainly are not,” Rodney shook his head at the troupe he had to work with. 

“Thanks for the rousing speech there, McKay,” Sheppard drawled. “Makes a guy wonder if he’s better off just having another beer.”

Rodney threw his hands up and turned on the Colonel. “What? Oh, come on. Like you’re actually insulted. I know your hair is making its acting debut and we’re all very excited for you. But just save the drama for the stage, Liza.”

Sheppard just gazed back at the scientist with one eyebrow raised in amusement. He loved it when Rodney was nervous and got all ranty and bitchy. 

Rodney tugged at the red cloak tied a little too tightly around his neck. “Okay, folks. Narrator, you’re on.”

Woolsey walked out onto the ‘stage’ and coughed politely to gain the crowd’s attention. Eager faces of the Athosian children gazed up from their spots on the floor. Their parents looked on from behind; a mix of curious and uncertain expressions were illuminated by the firelight.

“Once Upon a Time, boys and girls…”

***

**_Act Four: the pantomime_ **

To say that the play didn’t exactly adhere to Rodney’s carefully planned script would be an understatement. 

It was all going well to begin with. Mr. Woolsey was entertaining as he told the tale of Red Riding Hood. Rodney got some great laughs when he first skipped out onto the stage, fake bust bouncing along, proclaiming he was off to his grandmother’s house. And Chuck adequately prompted the appropriate _ooohs_ and _ahhhs_ from the audience as Todd the Wolf lurked and stalked his way around the set.

But that’s about where things fell apart.

Todd, ever the multitasking wraith, had been swilling red wine from a gold goblet throughout his performance, wowing the crowd with an impromptu magic show every time he managed to refill his glass without anyone seeing where he was actually getting the booze.

Keller made a rather grand entrance, wheeled in by Chuck on a fake four-poster bed, resplendent in her soap opera apparel. Todd took one look and abandoned the rehearsed blocking to join her by sitting on the bed. Feeling a tad crowded, Jennifer tried to playfully push him further away but only succeeded in spilling his wine down her nightgown, rendering it almost see-through. 

The two actors recited their lines at near lightning speed; Jennifer wriggling away across the bed as Todd crawled ever closer. Eyes wide and skin pale, it was hard to tell if she wanted him to catch her or not. By the time she panted out her scripted plea to “get those wicked teeth away from me!”, Todd decided to just go ahead and adlib his next line. 

The wraith’s growling delivery of “but Grandmother Kellerrr, you look good enough to eat, my dearrr,” transfixed the audience and caused the leading lady to lurch gracelessly off the back of the bed. Apparently familiar with the number one rule of improv, Todd hissed “yes and” followed her prompt by rolling off the back of the bed and disappearing from view. 

Rodney decided it was up to him to get things back on track and skipped into the scene a little early, interrupting the muffled snarls and quiet yelps. Adopting a pitch-perfect imitation of Keller’s breathy stage voice (and basking in the audience’s predictable giggles) he called out, “oh, Grandmother! Where are you?”

Appealing to his adoring audience for help to find his grandmother, he mimed looking around the stage, behind the bed and in the wings as people shouted “over there!” and “no, no! Over _there_!” waiting for Todd to reappear. 

_Where the hell is he?_ Rodney was looking under the heavy duvet then dropped it, only to reveal the wraith lounging right there on the bed, freshly poured goblet of wine in hand. Rodney’s resulting shriek was, of course, intentional and entirely in character. The booing crowd watched Todd tensely while he reclined like he was on holiday, smiling dangerously and sipping his wine.

“Well, hello now, Little Red Riding Rrrodney,” Todd purred, raising himself to kneel on the bed. He reached out and ran a clawed finger down Rodney’s cheek. 

“W-w-why, G-grandmother. W-what b-big eyes you have there. Ahem,” Rodney stuttered.

“All the better to see you with, my dearrrr,” Todd crooned, leering suggestively at Rodney’s augmented chest.

It was always at this point in their rehearsals that Sheppard would abandon his perpetual need to lean on things and come to stand close by. Rodney expected to see him hovering in the wings, but they were strangely empty. 

At least the thought of Sheppard snapped Rodney out of the wraith’s weird trance. “Why, Grandmother. What a big nose and _strange nasal slits_ you have there.” If Todd wasn’t going to wear the disguise, the Rodney wasn’t going to pretend either.

“All the better to smell you with, my dearrrr,” Todd moved closer, inhaling Rodney’s scent as he dipped his nose to the man’s neck. 

“Why, what inappropriately sharp teeth you have there.” Rodney snarked as the audience tittered. “It’s almost enough to make a gal think that you’re not actually her _Grandmother_ at all!”

“Why yessss,” Todd hinted menacingly, spinning his victim around and locking him in a tight embrace. The crowd collectively gasped and all of a sudden Rodney wasn’t really sure he wanted to do the play anymore. 

Todd threw his head back and roared victoriously, “All the better to EAT you with, my dearrrrrr!!!”

The audience went totally wild, stomping their feet and chanting; “let her go! Let her go! Let her go!” Rodney looked out on them all in a daze. They were captivated by the pantomime, completely lost in the scene and simply riveted by his performance.

 _Come on, McKay!_ Rodney rallied himself. Todd was having a great time manhandling the buxom rubber bosoms and leaning in to pretend to bite his neck. 

_Oh, crap! What the hell is the line?_ After chastising his cast for any errors and boasting about how he’d memorised his lines after one table read, he couldn’t _believe_ he was drawing a blank. The line also happened to be Sheppard’s cue to race on stage and come to his rescue.

Just when he’d convinced himself that the line was lost forever, Rodney felt Todd tighten his vice-like grip, settle his teeth onto his exposed shoulder and nip sharply at his skin. That’s all it took to make Rodney scream in his (clearly deliberate) falsetto, “Oh no! No! Don’t hurt me! Please! Is there no one to rescue a maiden so fair?!” 

Jinto and his pals sniggered in the back row. Rodney chose to ignore them. _Philistines._

But his hero, the Woodcutter, was nowhere to be found. Rodney, ever the ultimate pro, repeated his lines in case Sheppard hadn’t heard his cue. Hand draped daintily across his brow and straining in soprano; “Is there no one to rescue a maiden so fair?”

Jinto and pals burst out laughing. Several adults had to shush them and Halling hissed that Dr. McKay made a very handsome woman. 

By now Todd was getting rather handsy and Sheppard still hadn’t made an appearance. Hands firmly planted on hips, Rodney employed his best sing-song voice to call out, “I said, is there no one to rescue a maiden so fair? You know, like a certain Kirked-up Colonel wielding a bloody axe!”

Jinto and crew were now pointing _and_ laughing, until Rodney resumed his baritone and barked “Hey! In the cheap seats. Shut it!”

Turns out Sheppard may have been a little nervous about his acting debut, if the reek of beer that preceded his arrival was any indication. He staggered onto the stage, shirt untucked and unbuttoned, and slurred out, “unhand the fair _Beast_ you loathsome _Riding Hood_!” with his axe in the air. 

Then, lowering the axe; “No, wait.”

The crowd erupted in laughter while Rodney hissed the correct line at the confused Colonel. He simply shrugged and took a long slug of his beer and suggestively ogled Rodney’s boobs. Rodney caught his eye but the man swayed a little and then scrunched up his left eye while nodding.

“What’s wrong with your face? Oh, you’ve got to be-- are you trying to _wink_ at me?!” Cue more raucous hysterics from their adoring crowd.

“Oh, for the love of… here, have the damn things!” And with that, he wrenched the Weapons of Ultimate Distraction out from the corset and shoved them at Sheppard. He was sure he heard Halling’s deep, belly laugh above the rest of the party guests.

While Sheppard responded with a spot-on “alright, alright, alright” (why were the Athosians still laughing? They don’t even know who Matthew McConaughey _is_ ), Todd had turned his attention to the tipsy lumberman and his new heaving bustline.

Rodney was sweaty, he was hungry and he was fed up. All he had wanted was to perform a pantomime that would be beloved by all and discussed in reverent tones for the rest of time. _For goodness’ sake, is that too much to ask?_

“That is it! I have had it up to _here_ with you common plebians!” Rodney yelled at his costars, indicating a point well above the top of his head. He turned and stared out at the awestruck crowd. “I tell you, I cannot possibly work with these peasants, this vulgar riff-raff, any longer! I guarantee you that Lawrence Oliviér never had to put up with this crap!”

He was about to storm offstage when Zelenka turned the speakers up to eleven and the valley was instantly booming with the ridiculous theme song from the Benny Hill tv show. _What the--?!_

So. Rodney did the only thing that Rodney could do. He gathered up his skirts, and his dignity, helped himself to Sheppard’s axe and started pummeling the Colonel with it. “Come here, flyboy! You had one line! (*whack*) Just one! (*biff*) And apparently even that’s just! too! hard!” (*thwack* *bang* *thunk*)

Todd started laughing so hard he was doubled over and gripping the bedpost for support. Rodney spun around and came at him with malice in his eyes and a plastic axe in his hands. “Oi! You! If you could get your... baser urges… under control for just one minute, you big green lush, we could have actually finished the damn play.”

Todd’s half gasping laugh/half warning growl distracted him for a second, so Jennifer’s appearance and Rodney’s subsequent slapped face momentarily smacked the snark out of him. 

“Leave them alone, you aging prima donna! You hack!” Keller grabbed the end of the axe. 

But Rodney froze only for a moment. “Stay back, you wanton harpy! You cheating strumpet! You shrew!” Rodney and Keller proceeded to engage in a tug-of-war for the axe, trading insults each time one of them gained the upper hand. Somehow Keller got her hands on his wig, but he nobly sacrificed it in order to keep both hands on the coveted weapon.

Todd collected Sheppard off the floor only for both of them to start giggling until they had to hold each other up. Chuck materialised on stage and scooped up the fake boobs. 

An almighty shriek was heard from backstage, followed by Miko charging out from the wings as Radek sprayed her with a bottle of bubbly Ruus wine. As she passed by, she snatched the false décolletage and hightailed it out around the audience. Chuck and Radek gave chase, leaving Todd and Sheppard staring at each other with identical shocked expressions at Miko’s uncharacteristic show of moxie. 

Mr. Woolsey had stalked over at the point of Rodney’s meltdown but was now content to polish his glasses in the middle of the stage, chaos cutting a path around him.

Audience members were rolling in the aisles in fits of laughter and yelling out shouts of encouragement. Teyla was openly crying tears of mirth and Kanaan was holding his sides like they were about to burst. Halling, blue eyes sparkling and his smile a mile wide, was pounding Jinto on the back as he’d managed to snort juice out of his nose (Ha! Suck it, Jinto!). Children and adults alike were howling, chuckling, guffawing, cackling and chortling at the chaos on and around the stage. 

The prosthetic breasts were being tossed around like a beach ball at a 90s rave. 

Miko, Radek and Chuck made it back to the stage at the same time that Todd and Sheppard were wrapping up their earnest exchange of “no, _you’re_ the best brother”. Rodney had just managed to shove a well-timed finger up Keller’s nose so she relinquished the axe with a disgusted huff. He looked at the squashed, limp plastic axe for a moment before raising it above his head and emitting a strangled battle cry.

The responding rapture of the crowd interrupted his polishing, so Mr. Woolsey put his glasses back on, stepped forward and held his hands out to either side for his co-stars to join him. Rodney made it there first, bumping the older man along to position himself at centre-stage. Gradually the others caught on and made their way to the front. 

The exhausted, and somewhat bewildered, troupe of cast and crew joined hands and took a bow to thunderous applause. 

Rodney looked out over the ecstatic faces and felt himself being swept away with the collective euphoria. “You like me!” He whispered to himself. “You really like me!”*

But, most importantly, was the child of the hour, grinning with glee and yelling “best! Birthday! Ever!” Torren couldn’t stop bouncing in his seat until finally he leaped up and raced onto the stage, shoulder barging past an expectant Rodney only to leap into the wraith’s arms and cry, “thank you, thank you, thank you, Uncle Toddy!”

***

**_Act Five: the aftermath_ **

The dawn was way too dawny when Rodney shuffled out of his tent. He was met with the sight of his fellow thespians sprawled around the remains of the fire, drinking Teyla’s cleansing tea and looking about as bad as he felt. Goddamn show after-parties. Brutal.

He plopped down next to the Colonel, who was lounging back on his elbows with his face angled to the sun, and stole his cup. He leaned his head on Sheppard’s shoulder and took a large gulp of the godawful brew. He made a gagging face (when Teyla wasn’t looking - he was hungover, not stupid) and chucked the lot, cup included, over his shoulder. “Coffee!”

“Whaddya say, Rodney?” drawled Sheppard.

“Now!”

Todd obliged by producing an elaborate-looking thermos from beneath one of the animal skins and poured him a steaming mug of heaven. Trust Todd to haul his throne over here and preside over them all like a regal Alice Cooper. He was still in his costume and looked every bit the veteran rockstar. Bastard didn’t even look tired. This was clearly not his first post-panto morning after. 

Surprisingly, it was Mr. Woolsey who had sat on the ground and draped himself against the wraith’s leg like a groupie. Rodney’s money had been on Keller. Oh, look. Seemed that Chuck was curled up and fast asleep with his head on Jennifer’s thigh. Huh. 

Rodney made impatient grabby hands as the coffee was passed from person to person around the fire for excruciatingly interminable seconds. He almost wailed at Miko when she held onto the mug for a moment so she could plant another kiss on a happily dishevelled Radek. Finally it arrived and Rodney skulled it in one go before thrusting the empty mug out in front of him.

“More!” This prompted a second round of ‘get Rodney his coffee’ pass-the-parcel. Mug number two in hand, Rodney relaxed into Sheppard’s side.

Teyla waited until he’d drained his second mug before getting his attention. “The council would like to request an encore performance for our upcoming harvest festival.”

“Really?!” Rodney yelped. 

“They _liked_ it?” Sheppard didn’t even bother to hide his disbelief.

“Yes, John,” she replied, nodding and smiling indulgently. “They thought it was funny and they very much appreciated the strong message of female empowerment.”

Rodney put his mug down on the grass. “Hold on, what? Fairytales are not exactly known for their feminism… ohhhhh. You mean when I, as Red Riding Hood, whacked everyone with the, uh, axe.”

“Red Riding Hood was able to rescue herself, Rodney. It was an uplifting conclusion. Very clever,” she said diplomatically. “And they enjoyed it particularly when you attacked the wraith.”

All eyes turned to Todd who merely brushed off their concerns with a stately wave of his feeding hand. His offhand was occupied tracing circles on Woolsey’s scalp.

Rodney was busy calculating his fee. “I’m sure we could negotiate the appropriate payment for an appearance by Dr. McKay’s Players.”

At this claim, the scientist was pelted with a variety of projectiles from all directions.

Sheppard turned to mutter in Rodney’s ear, “Hey, I dunno about another performance…”

“Not a problem,” the resident genius whispered back. “I’ll cut your one and only line and after the rescue, I’ll add in a kiss. A really big one.” That seemed to appease the Colonel.

“Wait a sec,” Sheppard sat up abruptly, earning himself a barrage of curse words from Rodney for spilling some of his precious third coffee. “Where’s Ronon?”

Teyla tilted her head in contemplation. “I did not see him at all last night.”

Keller looked at them blearily over the top of her sunglasses. “Did he even come? Did anyone see him?”

“Um, he’s not exactly hard to miss,” mocked Rodney. 

An almighty burp alerted them to the appearance of the Satedan as he stumbled out of someone’s tent. That mystery someone appeared at the entrance to pass Ronon his particle magnum. 

“Good morning, Halling,” Woolsey piped up, lifting his head up off the wraith’s knee. “I see that you’ve been working on that Athosian-Satedan alliance.”

“Good morrow to you too, Richard,” Halling replied with a knowing smile. “And how are those Wraith relations treating you?”

“They’re a constant headache,” the expedition leader replied, earning a hearty chuckle from both Todd and Halling before the Athosian returned inside. 

They all watched as Ronon staggered his way over to the fireside, his gun in one hand and something oddly familiar clutched tightly in the other. He was clearly still drunk and had somehow managed to misplace all of his clothes. 

The big guy managed to maintain his modesty, however, with the strategic placement of a well-worn pair of Rodney’s boobs.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you have it. Hilarity and stage antics in the Pegasus galaxy. Whatever will they get up to next?
> 
> *Rodney's line here is paraphrased from Sally Field’s Oscar acceptance speech.


End file.
